Stay With Me
by PlayMeAMemoryxx
Summary: Warning: Description of a panic attack, please do not read if this could affect you. Also spoilers. Tony just got Peter back. But, the aftermath left Peter with nightmares and panic attacks. This is Tony comforting him.


**I Had It**

 **Warning- Spoilers and descriptions of panic attacks.**

 **This will be a first in a series of Tony being overprotective of Peter after the events of Civil War.**

 **Also posted on AO3**

On Titan, a dust-like substance reformed, knitting together- creating people that were once lost. First were people that came Tony didn't care if they lived or died. But, then there was Peter Parker.

"Peter."

Tony's arms tightened around the boy's. For the first time in six months, the teenager in his arms was real. Not a figment of his imagination. He found comfort in his breathing. He was the same as the day he was gone. Tony didn't know how long he held him, but it didn't feel long enough.

"M-mr Stark, I think you can let me go now."

"Er, sure, kid," Tony released the boy.

But Tony knew he would never let the boy go again.

The journey back to Earth, Peter slept. And Tony watched him. His face so young, his usually styled hair curlier and wilder. Tony watched his eyelids flicker in dreams, the comforting inhales and exhales of air, the soft murmurs in dreams. It wasn't long before serenity of a fifteen-year-old sleeping became screams.

Tony shoot up from where he was sitting. But, he froze, listening to his shouts and pleas. Could he comfort him?

He stared at the boy was trashing on the makeshift bed.

He spent all this time trying to save him. And, he did. Dr Strange knew that him being alive was the only way that Thanos would eventually be stopped. Because he wasn't doing to save the world- an abstract concept even while living in it. He was doing it to save the kid.

But, could he help him now?

"MR. STARK!"

It ripped out his throat. Guttural and animalistic, full of agony.

Tony didn't know if he could. But, he had to help him.

"Peter, Peter… it's okay, it is just a dream," Tony gentled shook him,

"No! No! NO!,"

With the last 'no', Tony was thrown against the metal wall of the spacecraft. His body left an impression on the metal. His back exploded with pain. Peter continued to scream and convulse; Tony picked himself back up.

And said, "Sorry, kid."

Tony slapped Peter across the face. His eyes flew open, panicked. He was hyperventilating. His heart is beating- pounding so hard against his ribs, that it pained him. Sweat clung to his skin. His throat closed- swollen from the fear, and he was gasping helplessly. His body movements shook through his body as his skin felt electrified. Tears dripped steadily down his bright red cheeks. He was gasping for air.

"Hey, kid, you're safe, Peter," Tony said, coming to sit next to him on the bed, "Breathe with me, okay? You're having a panic attack."

Peter looked at him. As his breath still forced his way out of his chest- short and huffy- burning the back of his throat. Tears tore out of his tear ducts uncontrollably- mixing in with the sweat on his top.

"I-I am sorry." It came out strangled and nearly incoherent.

"There is nothing to be sorry about, kid, just breathe with me," Tony exaggerated his breathing.

Tony tried to stay calm, but to see Peter in such pain. To have to suffer, to be so panicked. It was killing him. Tony wanted to wrap him in his arms and never let go. But, Tony didn't know if they what worsen how he felt.

Peter tried to match his mentor's breathing, looking desperately into Tony's eyes. Tony inhaled, then so did Peter. Tony exhaled, then so did Peter. They breathed together until Peter seemed to calm down. The tears stopped running down his cheeks, just came out in sporadic drops, his throat opened. He felt okay, not great, still shaky. But, he was aware and exhausted.

As his breathing calmed down, Tony placed his arm around Peter who snuggled against Tony. The arc reactor somehow comforted him; it was cold against his cheek.

Peter who was still shell-shocked listened to the sound of Tony's voice- Peter didn't know what it was about- an Avengers mission if Peter had to guess. The beating of Tony's heart and the vibrations of Tony's chatting soothed him. As, Peter shook against him, Peter didn't know how long they were like this until he felt comfortable to talk.

Peter looked up at his hero, Tony Stark and smiled.

"Thank-you," Peter croaked.

"You're welcome, kiddo," Tony mumbled against Peter's curls, "That nightmare got you pretty good, huh?"

Peter didn't respond. The panic had gone from all-consuming to it frizzling in the back of his mind. Bubbling like electricity, but he couldn't believe it and he didn't want to.

Peter untangled himself from Tony and he climbed over to the corner of the bed and started to hug his knees. The panic that overcame him moments ago, had been replaced with embarrassment. He had just cried all over Iron Man- his childhood hero and now personal saviour.

He looked so tiny, all curled into himself. Tony wanted to put his arms around him again. But, Peter had moved away from his touch, and he didn't want to force physical contact on him. No matter how much he wanted to sweep him up in his arms. Tony wondered what Aunt May would do, how she would deal with a violent nightmare and panic attack. And how his Dad would if he was here. Would he accuse him of coddling the boy? Tony wanted to coddle him more, to take all the nightmares as his own. Any pain. Any suffering. Tony wanted all of it, as nothing should stop Peter Parker's carefree smile.

"You know I have panic attacks," Tony said, "The amount of shit I have been through, it comes with part of the package. It isn't anything to be ashamed about."

Peter disagreed. He shook his head. Tony suppressed a sigh.

"Most of the Avengers do as well," Tony said.

Peter sat there curled up in silence. Tony patted the kid's leg and sat right next to him.

"Trust me, you will feel better if you talk," Tony laughed, "Look at me, I am the next person in a long line of parental figures and therapists to spew that cliché. Who would have thought it?"

Tony nudged him. Peter smiled against his knees. Peter would think about Tony using the term 'parental figure' in regards to himself later and often.

"Okay, kid. We are staying here until you talk, I will turn his ship around," Tony said, "As soon as that angry blue chick teaches me how."

The quiet rumble of the ship was all that filled the room. The motors span around, getting closer to their home. Peter reluctantly unfurled himself. But, he didn't look at Tony but his bare feet.

"I-I should have stopped him," Peter mumbled, "I had the gauntlet in my hands, a-and then it wasn't. I am so sorry."

The kid blamed himself. A fifteen-year-old that went up against an alien that had powers beyond imagining blamed himself for not being able to stop him. Like, it was all down to him. Not Quill- that idiot Starduke for losing himself to grief. Not Dr Strange for giving him the time stone in a fit of the apparent change of heart. Not Thanos for being a big purple asshole. Not the almighty God of Thunder Thor for missing his head. Not Tony who failed to save Peter. But, Peter thought it was his fault- the pure-hearted geeky teenager who would do anything for anyone in the expense for himself.

"Kid… Peter, this-this isn't your fault," Tony said, placing his arm once more around him "None of it. You did more than anyone could ever be asked of you."

"No, I didn't." His voice sounded firmer and surer.

"Yes you did," Tony said, "You shouldn't have even been there. Blame me. Blame Thanos. Blame I don't know Jesus himself. But, do not for a second think any of this is your doing."

"It was in my hands, Mr Stark. I had it."

The last part was whispered. A secret that should never be told.

"We are currently sharing sweat, Pete. I think Tony is appropriate." He said, "So, what if you had it? Err, Quill punched him in the face, remember? That wasn't your fault. None of it is. Ever."

"I don't know, Mr… Tony."

"Well, I do. And I am the adult, so you have to listen to me. It is not your fault. And if you say it is one more time, I will find every Lego set you own and burn one piece of each."

Peter looked at him. A tinge of fear in his eyes.

"You're evil."

Tony nudged him again. They smiled at each other.

"Now, you're getting it," Tony said, standing up, "Now, kid, you have eight hours of uninterrupted sleep ahead of you."

Peter realised how tired he was. How heavy it was behind his eyes- weighing him down-demanding rest.

"Okay, M- Tony."

As Peter got underneath the covers, Tony moved away from the bed.

"Stay with me."

 _Always._

"Okay."


End file.
